


no kiss was softer (softer than this)

by blake0tyler



Series: set your world on fire [3]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotionally this is all over the place, F/F, Marriage Proposal, Praise Kink, SO GAY, Tobin is pretty possessive, but it's all good in the end, they get into a fight, very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 20:02:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20377306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blake0tyler/pseuds/blake0tyler
Summary: She thinks to herself, maybe today is the day.//4 times Tobin accidentally proposes to Christen and 1 time it’s for real.





	no kiss was softer (softer than this)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: 
> 
> Third installment in the “set your world on fire” series. I really loved writing this au and these characters. For now this feels like the final installment, but who knows—maybe I will still add to it later. If you have any specific ideas/prompts/things you would still like to see within this universe, let me know! 
> 
> (My brother proposed to his girlfriend last week—I’ve been in a romantic mood.)
> 
> Title from “Saturday Sun” by Vance Joy.

:::

**one.**

:::

The first time, it’s a joke.

They’re at a summer camp soccer clinic together—just outside of Portland, no cameras or media teams around, feeling sweaty and loose and way more focused on trying to teach a bunch of bouncy seven to nine year-olds to get a ball into the back of the net than on each other.

They’ve been here every single day for the past week, already; getting to know the kids, running around with them, helping them improve their soccer skills—

And while Tobin usually really, _really _loves this—loves seeing the way they smile when they manage to get that perfect shot on goal, loves when she can see their competitiveness flare up, the way they’re having fun with each other—right now, she wishes she was as far away from this place as possible.

It happens when she’s busy trying to position about a dozen of them in a straight line to have them each take a penalty kick.

She’s about to give the first kid in line a go-ahead thumbs up, when all of a sudden, one of the girls standing closest to her pulls on her shirt and says, “Are you and Christen in love?”

Tobin chokes a little bit on the air. “Ava—where did you… uh, who… _what_…”

She trails off, cringes inwardly at herself, and immediately wishes Christen was here to help her out. But Christen is on the other side of the pitch, setting up games, and Ava’s still got her hand on the hem of Tobin’s shirt.

She doesn’t seem too fazed about Tobin’s incoherent answer. She just pushes her hair out of her face, and then says, “Yesterday, I saw you and Christen holding hands when you were walking back to your car, and then I told Julia, and Julia thought I was right because her two aunts are also in love and they hold hands a lot. But then at lunch, Oliver said that you can’t be in love because you are a girl and Christen is also a girl.”

_Oh, god._

Tobin takes a deep breath. 

“Oh… well…” she says slowly. “Yeah, I—uh—well, I am a girl and Christen is also a girl…” Ava narrows her eyes a little bit, and Tobin panics. “And girls can be in love,” she says quickly. “With each other. So Oliver is wrong about that.”

Ava puts her foot on the ball. “But are you?”

“Hm?” Tobin hums, pretending she doesn’t hear the question, pretending to be focused on the front of the line. “Keep it moving! Jordan, you’re up next.”

Ava says, “Tobin—”

But then, by some miraculous trick of the universe, Jordan ends up tripping on his own soccer ball, and Tobin hurries over to help him up, effectively dodging the end of the conversation.

She can feel that she’s blushing.

It’s not that the kids are not allowed to know—it’s that they’re _seven_; she’d never even considered that they _could _know.

She glances over to the other side of the field, tries to catch Christen’s eyes, but her girlfriend is busy overseeing five vs. five games—looking so unfairly good in her black shorts, with her hair pulled back tight, so beautiful and gorgeous and perfect, skin so smooth and—

_Ugh. _

She _is_ in love. 

Tobin takes a breath, hopes none of the kids have seen her staring, and decides to leave it.

They’re kids. They’re seven. Tomorrow, Ava will have forgotten.

:::

Ava has not forgotten.

Christen has taken charge of warm up. She’s making them compete in short sprints against each other, see who can do the highest jumping jacks—telling them jokes so they’ll crack up laughing halfway through. It’s a mess of loud voices and kids getting tangled up with each other, and Tobin knows she should focus on setting up the playing field for their games and exercises, but watching Christen like this—all wide smiles and giving out high fives, making sure the kids don’t fall over as they accidentally bump against her legs—

It’s a good view.

She’s still looking when Christen rounds things off and tells the kids to run up and down the field one more time before they’ll start their exercises. When they take off, she jogs over to where Tobin’s standing.

“Hey,” she says, with a bit of a smirk. “You were supposed to be finished setting this up about ten minutes ago.”

Tobin can feel her face heat up, but she knows that Christen _knows_, so there’s no point trying to be coy about it.

“Well,” she says, instead. “Maybe I got a little bit distracted.”

Christen’s half smirk turns into a full smirk. “Oh, did you?”

“I mean,” Tobin says, taking just the slightest step forward. “I’m pretty sure you’d be distracted too if your girlfriend was one of the best soccer players in the world and also really hot.”

“Hm,” Christen says. “That actually sounds a lot like my girlfriend.”

Tobin laughs. “Smooth.”

For a moment, they just stand in front of each other, smiling, getting just a tiny bit caught in each other’s body language, and then—

“_I told you so.” _

There’s a bit of commotion as the kids all gather around them again, but Ava’s voice is clear—even if it looks like she’s trying to whisper into Jordan’s ear. Tobin, who had forgotten all about this, barely has enough time to think to herself, _oh god_, and then Ava says, “Christen?” 

“Okay, everyone, listen up!” Tobin cuts in quickly, trying to move on with the program before this can go anywhere she doesn’t want it go.

But then Christen’s hand is on her arm, and she’s already saying, “Hold on one second. You had a question, Ava?”

“Yes,” Ava says. She glances at the ground for just for a second, almost nervous, but then she lifts her face again and says, for the entire group to hear, “Are you in love with Tobin?” 

Tobin makes a sort of gasping sound.

_Oh, fuck._

For the briefest of moments, Christen looks taken aback. If Tobin didn’t know her so well, she wouldn’t be able to tell, but she can read Christen better than anyone else—can tell she’s instantly overwhelmed by the slightly red flush that makes its way to her cheeks, the way she licks her lips, the way her eyes go just the slightest bit wide at the question.

But then Christen smiles, takes a deep breath, looks so fucking _pretty_.

“I am,” she says to Ava. “How did you figure it out?”

The proudest smile makes its way onto Ava’s face. “I saw you hold hands,” she says, grinning wide. “And then I said it to Julia and then Julia said that sometimes you and Tobin look at each other like her two aunts look at each other—and so we thought it meant you had to be in love.”

“That’s a very smart assessment,” Christen says with a wink.

“Wait…” Jordan says. “In _love_?”

Some of the kids giggle a little bit.

“Yes, Jordan,” Christen says, smiling sweetly. 

“I tried to ask Tobin yesterday—” Ava says, speaking up again. “But she didn’t give me an answer.”

“Oh?” Christen raises her eyebrows. “That’s not very nice of her.”

Her voice is teasing, but Tobin can still feel her cheeks go red. She quickly runs a hand through her hair, taking an awkward step forward. “Well, I mean, that was…” she tries. “We were playing soccer, so I—”

“But are you?” Ava says, tapping her foot a little impatiently.

“Am I…?” Tobin says, a little sheepishly.

The kids giggle harder.

“In love,” Jordan says, smirking.

Ava nods, then adds, unnecessarily, “With Christen.”

Tobin doesn’t want to smile. She doesn’t want to give in, but they all look so excited, jumping from one foot the other, in their poorly assembled soccer kits; shirts too big and shorts dirty with grass stains.

Tobin bites her bottom lip, can feel herself go shy, says, anyway, “Yeah—yeah, I am.”

It sounds a little breathless. The kids squeal and she can feel Christen’s hand on her arm, just the briefest touch. 

“Do you kiss?” Lara, one of the other girls asks.

A lot of kids burst out in laughter. Jordan makes a face. “Only married people kiss.”

“Maybe Tobin and Christen are married,” Ava tells him quickly. “You don’t know! And maybe they kiss even when they’re not married. My brother has a girlfriend that he kisses and they are definitely not married.”

Jordan narrows his eyes. “I don’t believe that,” he mumbles, but it doesn’t sound entirely convinced anymore. “Only married people kiss…”

“_Okay_,” Christen cuts in. “I think it’s time we started playing some soccer again, don’t you think?”

She rushes into the explanation of the first exercise, quickly dividing the kids up into smaller groups, putting the soccer balls in position, and Tobin can feel something light and warm start to spread through her body, because something about the whole conversation has suddenly gotten Christen flustered, and she kind of loves the sight of it.

“What?” Christen says, when she’s finally put every kid where they’re supposed to go. “Why are you looking at me like that?

Tobin grins. “I just really want to kiss you right now.”

Christen laughs. “Only married people kiss.”

“Guess you’ll have to marry me, then.”

She’s said it before she can stop herself, feels the ease of it flow all the way from her heart to her lips, but then—

Christen goes red and Tobin realizes what she’s just let slip, and it was only a joke—

Mostly a joke, anyway—

And then Christen mumbles, “You wish” and she kind of pushes Tobin’s shoulder a bit, and Tobin runs a hand through her hair again, says something like, “_You _wish” and Christen rolls her eyes, but is looking so flustered and cute—

And then, one of the kids accidentally kicks a ball against Tobin’s back, and they’re pulled back into the reality and away from whatever _that _was.

:::

On Saturday, right before the parents come to pick the kids up, Ava comes to say goodbye to Tobin.

She wraps her arms around Tobin’s waist and Tobin says, “See you next year again, yeah? Remember to keep practicing with your left foot.”

Ava nods with her face in Tobin’s shirt, and then she looks up and smiles, says, “You know, when we grow up, I think Julia and I are also going to be in love. Like you and Christen.”

Tobin can’t stop her smile. “Oh yeah? That sounds like a really great idea.”

Ava hugs her tighter.

:::

**two.**

:::

She’s drunk.

Or—

She’s tipsy, mostly, for now, but with every passing minute, her inhibitions are fading away more.

Tobin is sure it would have been the better decision to just leave the bottle of wine on the kitchen counter, but it’s Saturday night, and Christen had stripped down naked right there in their living room, saying she was going to take a bath, all teasing smiles and _showing off_, and Tobin—

Well, she can’t ever really resist an open invitation.

So, here they are, in the bathtub, soaking in the hot water, playing with the bubbles, drinking directly from the bottle like they’re still in college—and Christen is sitting between Tobin’s legs, leaning back against her, fingers tracing the slowest circles over Tobin’s thigh, not really with any purpose, but still _there_, sort of distracting and hot, and if she’s honest, Tobin’s having more and more trouble to think clearly with all the heat between their bodies, with the fact that her girlfriend is so fucking gorgeous, and naked, and _between her legs_—

She takes another swig from the bottle of wine, before handing it to Christen, who tips her head back against Tobin’s shoulder as she drinks, then breathes out slowly, and says, “Let’s get a dog.”

Tobin feels like her head is spinning. “Hm?”

“A dog,” Christen says. “I want to get a dog with you.”

Tobin has to try and fight her smile. “Baby—we’ve talked about this.”

Christen makes this frustrated little noise at the back of her throat that has Tobin pulling her closer, kissing the side of her neck, soft and slow. Christen leans into it, but sighs hard. “Tobin, think about it, though—”

Tobin curls her hand over Christen’s hip.

“—we could get one from the shelter, one that no one else wants to have—”

She slides her fingers over Christen’s stomach.

“—we could go to the park and let it play with all the other dogs, we could go running with early in the morning—”

She strokes her hands over Christen’s ribs.

“—and I know you think we’re not settled enough yet, but I’m sure whenever we need to be away, there’d be so many people who would—oh, _fuck_—”

Christen’s voice cuts off in a moan as Tobin’s fingers drag slowly over Christen’s nipple.

Tobin feels drunk at the sound.

“Chris,” she mumbles, “Baby, do you really want to talk about this now?”

“_Yes_,” Christen says, but she’s leaning back against Tobin’s body at the same time, arching into the touch. “You’re—you’re distracting me on purpose…”

“I’m not,” Tobin mumbles, cupping Christen’s boob while putting her other hand on Christen’s thigh. “We can talk about it if you want.”

She nudges Christen’s legs a little more open, dragging her fingers down just a little bit. She can feel Christen’s breathing hitch.

“_Tobin_…”

She kisses Christen’s neck again, long and slow, licking at her pulse point, before mumbling, “You were saying?”

“I’m… I’m just—I think we should really re-consider getting a—_oh my god_—” Tobin barely brushes the tip of her fingers against Christen’s clit, but Christen’s whole body shudders. “Not fair… _Tobin_—”

She presses a kiss against Christen’s jaw, licks up to her ear. “God, you’re so beautiful,” she whispers. “You drive me crazy, Chris—”

“You—” Christen’s breathing is really short. “You drive _me _crazy. I need—babe, just…” There’s a moment of hesitation, and Tobin is so sure that her girlfriend is going to give in, but then Christen laughs, grabs a hold of Tobin’s wrist, pulling her fingers back from between her legs. “Just—just give me _one second_.”

She pushes herself away from Tobin’s body, and Tobin is already groaning at the lack of contact—

But then, Christen turns, swings her legs over Tobin’s hips and settles down in her lap, arms around Tobin’s neck, smiling smugly.

“You’re going to let me talk for a second,” she says, before brushing her lips against Tobin’s in a chaste kiss, hovering close to her lips, as she whispers, “And if you’re good, maybe I’ll give you what you want after…”

Tobin’s throat goes a little bit dry. Still, she forces herself to look up in Christen’s eyes, sliding her hands to Christen’s ass, as she says, “Thought _you _like to be good for _me_, baby.”

Christen’s inhale is just the slightest bit sharp. But instead of letting it get to her, she places her finger against Tobin’s lips, arches her eyebrow and then says, with a sort of cheeky smile, “I want to get a dog with you.”

Tobin feels the corners of her mouth pull upwards.

“I’m serious,” Christen says, eyes light. “I want to get a dog. I don’t care what kind. It can be big or small, old or young. I don’t even care. I just want to have a dog with you so bad.”

Tobin’s biting back her smile. “You’re cute.”

Christen pecks her lips.

“I want a dog,” she says again, “And I know what you’re going to say—what about the house, what about the travelling—and I’m telling you, it’s not perfect, but I know that we can work it out. We can take it with us, or we can ask people to watch it. We can get a house with a yard, or a house on the beach somewhere—”

Tobin licks at her bottom lip. “A house on the beach?”

Christen nods, smile growing wider. “Yeah—with a lot of big windows so all the light comes in when we wake up.” She presses a kiss to Tobin’s cheek. “With art on the walls and plants everywhere. Surfboards and soccer balls lying around.” She kisses down Tobin’s neck. “And we can have our dog and let it run around while we tan naked on the beach.” Tobin lets out the softest moan. Christen smirks against her skin, says, “I want an outdoor shower. I want to have sex with you in every single room of that house…” Tobin’s hips buck up a little and Christen’s voice goes just the slightest bit more breathless when she admits, softly, “Want to wake up early and make you coffee and tell our kids to go play on the beach before breakfast. That’s what I want.”

Tobin’s whole body feels warm in a way that’s got nothing to do with the hot water. She pulls Christen even tighter to her. “You want…” She swallows hard. “You want that with me?”

Christen nods. “No one but you.”

Tobin kisses her—a little fast, a little needy—but Christen sinks into it like she’s been waiting for it, nipping at Tobin’s bottom lip and moaning into her mouth already.

“Fuck…” Tobin’s breathing is completely uneven when she pulls back. “That’s… Chris, I’m…” Her mind is spinning on all of the visuals; the light spilling into the bedroom in the morning; the air so crisp and salty; the dog running around; Christen balancing a little kid with messy dark curls on her arm. “God,” she whispers. “Want to marry you.”

She’s not sure that Christen hears it.

It’s almost nothing but air.

But still, Christen’s whole body moves forward, closer, closer, and Tobin—

Tobin is tipsy and turned on and _in love_—

Christen kisses her again, before Tobin can say anything else, and it’s almost like there’s a little bit of desperation behind it; hands and skin and tongue and lips. She hums into Tobin’s mouth, rocks her body forward, pulls back for just a second to grin and says, “So that’s a ‘yes’ to the dog?”

Tobin laughs, and then they’re kissing again, steam rising up all around them.

:::

**three.**

:::

When it happens for the third time—

_Third time already_, Tobin reminds herself. _Oh, god. _

Well, it’s Christen’s fault, actually.

:::

Christen arches her back off of the mattress, pushing herself harder against Tobin’s mouth, and if she wasn’t so focused on getting her girlfriend there _first, _Tobin’s pretty sure that she could come from the sight and the taste alone.

She licks harder at Christen’s clit, before leaning back and saying softly, “Fuck—baby, you taste so good.”

Christen moans, fists her hands harder in Tobin’s hair. “More,” she chokes out. “Please, I need—”

Tobin slides two of her fingers inside of her in one stroke and Christen clenches tight around her immediately. “Yes, yes…” she whimpers. “_Tobin_—please.”

It makes Tobin’s head spin—the way that Christen is completely letting go, how she just keeps rambling and wanting and _begging _for it.

“Love you,” she says. “Love you so much, Chris.”

Christen goes tight around her. She whimpers, opens her legs even wider, and Tobin can’t resist; she leans back until she’s on her knees between Christen’s legs, ignoring her girlfriend’s groan of protest at the lack of pressure from Tobin’s mouth, and grabs a hold of Christen’s thigh with her free hand, pushing it back until Christen’s ankle is resting against her shoulder.

The angle is more difficult like this, but it’s worth it; worth it to watch the way Christen’s face changes as Tobin hooks her fingers harder against Christen’s spot; worth it to hear the string of _oh my god yes yes fuck that’s it fuck I love you _that keeps spilling from Christen’s lips; worth it for the rush of heat and pride and possessiveness that courses through Tobin’s body at the fact that she gets to have it this way—that Christen is hers to touch and hers only.

“God, you love this, don’t you, baby?” Tobin manages to say. “Is this what you wanted when you were sending me those texts? Did you want me to fuck you like this?”

Christen whimpers, rocks her hips forward harder, and then breathes out, “Tell me. Tell me that I’m being—”

Tobin slides her fingers out of Christen right away. “Oh, you think you’re in charge?” she says, watching the way Christen’s whole body contracts at not being fucked anymore. She leans further back, creating more space between their bodies. “Is that how we do things now?”

“No, no,” Christen whines, pulling on Tobin’s wrist, trying to get her back in place. “Don’t stop. Tobin, don’t—”

“Good girls ask, Christen.”

Christen’s pupils are wide-blown, her breathing so raspy that Tobin almost wants to give in right away again, to just kiss her girlfriend and make her come. But _this—_

This is what is making Christen even wetting against the tips of Tobin’s fingers.

This is what is making Christen’s whole body shake.

Tobin pulls her wrist out of Christen’s grip. “Roll over.”

Christen inhales sharply. “_Tobin_—”

“Now.”

Christen huffs in frustration, but then loosens her grip on Tobin’s wrist, and rolls over until she’s on her stomach.

Tobin smirks, places her hand low on Christen’s back, tapping her hip. “Ass up, baby.”

Christen groans, but pushes her hips up higher.

Tobin slides her palm down to the curve of Christen’s ass. “That’s my good girl.”

At that, Christen shudders, and Tobin knows—knows that no matter what impatient act her girlfriend is trying to pull off, she actually _loves _this, loves this kind of power play, loves when Tobin makes her work for it. 

“Hands flat on the mattress,” Tobin says. “No touching yourself.”

Christen’s face is hidden from view, but Tobin can feel the heat that is radiating off her skin, knows Christen is biting her lip in anticipation. She watching Christen flatten her hands slowly, and Tobin slides her fingers down to Christen’s thighs.

“You’re so wet for me,” she mumbles, drawing slow lines over the slick skin. Then, she fucks two fingers into Christen easily, pressing right against the spot that makes Christen’s whole body shake. Tobin moves slowly, loves the way Christen is moaning more and more with each stroke. She leans forward and presses a wet kiss against Christen’s spine. “Love it when you’re needy like this.” She kisses the words into Christen’s sweaty skin. “When you just want me to fuck you…”

She speeds up just a little bit, uses her other hand to pull on Christen’s hair as she kisses the exposed skin. It makes Christen buck against her and Tobin swears. “Fuck—you’re getting even wetter.” 

Christen breathes out something that Tobin doesn’t quite catch.

She slows her movements just a little. “What’s that, baby?”

Christen’s whole body shudders, and then she says, “Make me… If you do it like that, you’re going to make me—”

The rest of the sentence gets swallowed by a throaty moan, but Tobin—

Fuck.

She knows exactly what Christen is talking about. 

It’s only happened three or four times before, but Tobin knows that if she applies just the right amount of pressure in just the right place—

“Yeah?” Tobin’s voice is completely breathless. She can feel her face burn hot, when she whispers, “Are you going to come all over my hand, baby?”

Christen nearly sobs into the pillow. She’s shaking so hard that Tobin can barely keep her movements precise. She’s lost all sense of control, and Tobin is so, so, _so _in love.

“Want you to, Chris.” Tobin says. “That’s it—just a little bit more. You’re almost there, baby girl.”

That’s all she needed to say.

Christen loses it completely. She goes impossibly tight, swears and moans into the mattress, and then spills hot and wet all over Tobin’s wrist as she comes.

Tobin strokes her through it, lets the aftershocks slow down, kisses the skin of Christen’s back as her girlfriend slumps forward, panting and sweaty. She brushes her hand over Christen’s shoulder blades, moves forward to press a kiss to the back of her neck, her jaw, her lips.

Christen’s voice is hoarse when she says. “Oh my god… when you call me _baby girl_, I just… I just…”

“I know.” Tobin kisses her, smiles a little against Christen’s lips, adds softly and proudly, “I know what you like. I know how to take care of you.”

Christen hums. “You really do.” She rolls onto her back, brings her hands up to her head. “Fuck, that was the best orgasm ever. Nothing in the rest of my life is ever going to top that.”

Tobin grins. “The rest of your life is a really long time, baby. And I’m pretty sure I _am _going to… top that… actually.”

Christen laughs, wraps her arms around Tobin’s neck to pull her closer. “Oh yeah?”

Tobin nods. “No one but me.”

Christen smiles softly.

“No one but you,” she says.

She kisses Tobin, then, mouth hot and wet. It stays soft and sweet for all of a minute, then Tobin’s hand is already sliding back between Christen’s legs. But Christen grabs it, shakes her head, says, “No—it’s my turn first.”

She leans back into the pillows, makes a show of letting Tobin’s gaze roam all over the length of her body—from where she is still wet and shiny between her thighs, to the way her nipples are hard and her skin is flushed.

Tobin feels her whole body heat up at the sight.

She is never going to get over this. Never going to get over how absolutely stunning her girlfriend is, how lucky she is to have her.

“Come here,” Christen says with a smirk. “You know what I want.”

Tobin’s inhale is sharp.

She lets Christen pull on her thighs—spreads herself wide over Christen’s mouth, which _is _exactly what Christen wants. And that thought alone already makes her shake a little bit.

At the first stroke of Christen’s tongue, she moans—

Christen smiles, says, “This is my favorite thing in the world.”

And then there’s no way back.

Christen builds her up steadily—all quick work with the tip of her tongue, sucking and licking at Tobin’s clit, sliding through the wetness, drawing out every quiver, every moan. It doesn’t take long before Tobin feels herself rocking down, feels herself get carried away by the way Christen’s going down on her like it’s the most important thing in the world.

“Fuck,” she chokes out. “Fuck—Chris, baby, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

Christen hums, pulls harder on Tobin’s hips.

She’s going to come—

She can feel it.

She’s going to come so hard.

“_Yes_,” she chokes out, shuddering. “I’m—fuck, baby, yes, like that—God, I love you—” Christen sucks on her clit, and then she’s coming, rambling out, “God, Chris—just—_fuck_, want you to marry me.”

She feels like she’s going to black out.

She only realizes what she’s said when she comes down from the high, when Christen is looking up at her, blushing hard, and Tobin thinks, _oh my god. _It’s only then that she realizes she wants it for real. With Christen kissing the inside of her thigh, her hair messed up, her mouth wet, looking shy and pretty in the best way.

_Fuck, _Tobin thinks. _Okay._

:::

**four.**

::: 

They fight sometimes—of course they do.

Mostly it’s about stupid stuff. Tobin leaving her dirty cleats on the clean bathroom floor. Christen forgetting that she planned her yoga class at the same time as their Saturday morning coffee date. They fight about dinner plans and about soccer matches and sometimes Christen gets upset about Tobin’s lack of communication skills, and in turn Tobin gets annoyed at Christen’s tendencies to micromanage every little thing in their lives. They don’t always agree about politics, they don’t always agree about religion. When she really wants to piss Christen off, Tobin knows exactly how to take a joke too far. Whenever she does, Christen will make sure to cut right into Tobin’s insecurities in turn.

They fight—it happens. 

Sometimes it’s a little more intense. Like, that one Friday when Tobin got really fucking drunk with Lindsey and Emily and didn’t get home until 5 in the morning even though it was her and Christen’s anniversary the next day. Or that time when Christen bailed on Tobin’s family’s Thanksgiving dinner at the very last minute because she wasn’t feeling well and then ended up spending the last part of her evening with Kelley and Becky, anyway.

Still, even when it’s intense, they’re good at making up.

They’ll give each other space when they need it. They’ll spend long evenings at the kitchen table, talking about the thing beneath the thing beneath the thing—why they were genuinely upset, what the fight was _really _about.

They kiss a lot; sometimes after the fight—sweet and slow and loving—sometimes during the fight—frantic and hot and bitingly.

They’ll make love in their bed, or they’ll fuck it out against the wall, and it’s not always healthy, but most of the time it is—or it will get there eventually, and that’s all they can do, really.

And then, sometimes, only sometimes, something blows up out of control.

Something like this.

:::

“You _always _do this, though. Don’t try to deny it, Chris.”

Christen slams her keys down on the kitchen counter. “I do _what _exactly? What are you even trying to say?”

Tobin’s whole body is hot with anger. “With guys like that—” she bites out, struggling to find the right words for what she’s feeling. “You always let them… you always let them _play_ you. Even when it’s right in front of me.”

“_Play _me?” Christen’s eyes are like fire. “First of all, I can take care of myself. Second of all, he wasn’t _playing _me. He was our waiter. He was being nice. It’s not my fault you have insane jealousy issues.”

Tobin scoffs. “Oh, so, some asshole is eye-fucking my girlfriend right in front of me for the entire night, and somehow I’m to blame?”

“You _are _to blame,” Christen bites out. “You are to blame because everything was fine and the night was great, and then all of a sudden you decide to ruin it like this.”

“You wanted to exchange phone numbers with him!”

“Just so that I could text him the name of the yoga studio I go to!”

“Fuck that_—_” Tobin lets out the most humorless laugh. “You can’t be serious. He wasn’t interested in your yoga studio. He was interested in getting his dick in your pretty mouth—”

Christen gasps.

But Tobin’s not even closed to finished. She’s feeling so, _so _angry. It hurts in every single part of her body. “And to be honest,” she adds, voice spilling over with frustration. “I can’t even blame him. With the way you were checking him out all night, I would have thought you’d go down on him right there at the dinner table, too—no matter the fact that your actual girlfriend was right there the whole time.”

Christen’s entire body is shaking now. “Are you done?” she bites out. “You know this whole jealousy act really pisses me off.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is this inconvenient for you?” Tobin strides forward. “Interesting. You didn’t seem so bothered an hour ago when you were explaining _hot yoga _to some random dude who couldn’t even keep his eyes up where they belong.”

“You’re being so dramatic!” Christen’s voice nearly breaks. “I was just giving him so background info. You’ve got _no _reason to be this jealous about it.”

“No?” Tobin says. “You sure loved the attention, though.”

At that, Christen actually falls silent for a second—her breathing harsh, her eyes flashing with anger. Then she bites out, “What is _that_ supposed to mean?” 

“You know exactly what I mean!”

“Seriously, Tobin, you better just answer the question, or—”

“I’m saying he’s your type!” Tobin cuts in. “He’s exactly your type. The whole hipster yoga thing. The messy hair. The way he couldn’t keep his eyes off you all night. You love that kind of undivided attention—”

“You might want to watch where you’re going with this,” Christen says, her voice suddenly low.

Tobin doesn’t care, can’t stop. “Bet he’s exactly like that guy you dated in Sweden. Bet you hated having to sit there in that restaurant with me—”

“You need to stop—”

“Just admit it, Chris.” She can’t stop talking, can’t— “Did you want to flirt back? Did it make you wet when he said you look like the kind of girl who’d be really good at hot yoga?” Tobin is shaking, inside and out. “God knows you prefer guys, anyway.”

And then—

Just like that—

Everything snaps.

“_Fuck you,_” Christen bites out. “Seriously. Fuck you, Tobin.”

And then—

Of course—

Tobin says, “Oh, _now_ you want to fuck me?”

And Christen loses it.

She’s right in front of Tobin in seconds, tears in her eyes, her whole body shaking.

“_Get out_,” she says.

Instantly, Tobin’s whole chest feels like it’s being crushed, like someone is stepping right on her lungs and she can’t breathe anymore.

“Shit—” she mumbles. “Chris, I’m sorry, I—that was messed up—I—”

“Stop talking,” Christen snaps. “You need to shut up right fucking now.”

Tobin’s throat closes off.

“You don’t get to say that to me, you hear me?” Christen says, her voice trembling. “You do not. I don’t care how jealous you get, that’s _your _issue. And maybe—maybe I wasn’t aware of his stupid intentions, whatever. That’s on me. But _you_—” She chokes. “You don’t get to tell me that I ‘prefer guys’ when I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, and you fucking _know _it.”

Tobin feels pressure behind her eyes, feels like she’s going to break, suddenly.

“Christen—”

“You _know _how much that hurts me.”

“I’m sorry—”

“And by the way!” Christen says, angry fire flooding back into her voice, hot and sharp. “He knew I was with you. He knew the whole damn time. If you’d just stopped being red hot jealous for one fucking second all night, you would have noticed that I said the world _girlfriend _like fifteen times.”

It drains all of Tobin’s energy instantly.

She steps forward, inches her hand towards Christen’s arm. “Baby,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. That was way out of line. I’m—”

“I just don’t understand why you even get like this!” Christen snaps. “You _know _I’m not interested in anyone else.”

“Just—” Tobin’s breath cuts short. She struggles, hates the way this makes all the heat rise up to her cheeks. “Just want you to be mine.”

“I _am_,” Christen snaps. “I am yours. I shouldn’t have to prove it to you all the time. Maybe you should try and trust me now and then!” 

“Maybe you should marry me.”

Christen chokes.

It’s half a laugh and half a sob, and Tobin feels like all the breath gets snatched from her chest, and then Christen says, “Yeah, that’s nice. Real nice, Tobin.” She grabs a bottle of wine from the cupboard, then bites out, “Get out. I’m serious. Go sleep at Lindsey’s or something—I don’t want to see you right now.” 

She doesn’t bother waiting for Tobin’s reply, just takes the bottle and disappears into their bedroom, kicking the door closed behind her.

:::

It takes three days. Three days before Christen is ready to let Tobin apologize to her for real. Three days before Christen texts her _okay let’s talk_, and Tobin knows she’s got some space to make it up.

It’s not easy.

It’s messy and tense, and there are still a lot of mixed and complicated emotions to address, but in the end they get there—in the end, they speak about Tobin’s insecurities and Christen’s naïve behavior sometimes, and about trying better not to feed into either of those. And Tobin apologizes and Christen says, “Just don’t ever say something dumb like that again” and it’s sort of sharp for a second still, but then her face softens and she adds, “I’m so crazy about you. You know that. You know there’s no one but you”, and then they’re kissing and Tobin’s throat feels like she’s going to cry, and maybe she does, just for a second, because she’s so damn relieved and she still feels so guilty and she’s so in _love_—

And then Christen wipes the tears from her eyes and pulls her close and they strip each other naked and shower together, easing the tension from each other’s bodies, until everything feels normal again. 

There’s one thing Tobin realizes, though.

It’s time to stop playing around.

:::

**(one.)**

:::

When Tobin wakes up, it’s still early, and Christen is sleeping—half on her stomach, curled into Tobin’s side. Her t-shirt has ridden all the way up to her breasts and Tobin can’t help but brush her hand over Christen’s exposed back. She rolls over just a little bit, slides her arm completely over Christen’s body. She can feel Christen’s slow and heavy breath against the side of her neck. Their legs are tangled, and everything is quiet, and Tobin closes her eyes, breathes in deeply, then presses a kiss to Christen’s shoulder.

She thinks to herself, _maybe today is the day_.

It takes another kiss, and then another, closer to Christen’s pulse point, and then her girlfriend finally stirs a little bit, waking up.

“Hey,” Tobin says, her voice still rough with sleep.

Christen hums, doesn’t open her eyes, just pulls a little harder on Tobin’s t-shirt, trying to stay asleep for a bit longer.

Tobin smiles, kisses Christen’s jaw. “I know you want to sleep,” she mumbles, “But I’ve got somewhere I need to take you today.”

Christen’s voice is hoarse when she whispers into Tobin’s neck, “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

Tobin grins. “Not really.”

Christen pouts. “Want to stay in bed…”

“I’ll go make you coffee,” Tobin says, kissing Christen’s lips. “I’ll go make you coffee and breakfast, and then whenever you’re ready, we can go, okay?”

Christen presses her mouth to Tobin’s neck. “Or… we could skip the coffee and have breakfast in bed…”

She licks a little harder at Tobin’s skin to make the point, and Tobin smirks. “Tempting,” she mumbles, sliding her hand down to Christen’s ass to pull her a little closer. “But that would ruin the surprise.”

“You know I don’t like surprises.”

Tobin smiles. “I’m pretty sure you’ll like this one.”

“Mm…” Christen doesn’t sound convinced. She slides her hands up under Tobin’s shirt, fingers against her abs. “If I don’t like it, you’ll have to make it up to me tonight, though.”

Tobin tries to hide her smile against Christen’s shoulder. “Okay, I will.”

Christen is playing with the waistband of Tobin’s shorts, and Tobin quickly grabs a hold of her wrist, knowing she won’t be able to stop once Christen slips her fingers down a little further.

“Time to make coffee,” she says, instead, pecking Christen’s lips, and moving out from under the blankets before Christen can pull her back. At the door, she turns back, smiles at the sight of her girlfriend in their bed. “Get ready, baby.” 

:::

It’s a little bit of a drive.

Christen is still trying to figure out where they’re going. “If you’re taking me on a hike, you should have told me to get dressed for it.”

Tobin grins. “We’re not going hiking, I promise. Love what you’re wearing, though.”

She glances over, drags her eyes over Christen’s dark blue summer dress and smirks. Christen rolls her eyes, but still blushes a little bit. “Of course you do.”

They’re just outside the city now, getting closer. Tobin is trying to contain her excitement but is barely able to now that they’re only a few miles away. When she rounds the corner onto the driveway, she bites down on her lip, slowing down the car as she watches Christen take in where they are; the building at the end of the road, the stretches of grass and woods around them; and then the sign on the side of the building that reads _Animal Shelter_.

Christen’s eyes go wide. “No.”

Tobin bites down on her bottom lip, reaches for Christen’s hand, and then says, with a bit of a grin, “Chris, I want to get a dog with you.”

Christen makes a sound that is so high-pitched and squeaky that Tobin bursts out laughing.

“Really?” Christen squeezes Tobin’s hand so hard that it hurts. “We’re getting a dog? You and me? _Really_?”

Tobin smiles. “If you want to.”

Christen kisses her—leans right over, hand at the back of Tobin’s neck, and kisses Tobin so hard that it makes her lose her breath. “Fuck, I love you,” she says, hot and heavy against Tobin’s lips. “Love you so, so much.”

Tobin smiles wide, stroking her hand through Christen’s hair. “Love you too.” And then, looking at her girlfriend’s face, she suddenly bursts out laughing. “Chris, baby, are you crying?” 

“No—”

“Baby…”

Christen’s eyes are definitely teary, and Tobin kisses her again.

“I just—” Christen mumbles, suddenly shy. “I just want that so much with you.”

Tobin feels her heart beat faster. “I want it, too,” she says. “All of it. The dog and the house on the beach and you and me—just you and me.” Christen smiles and Tobin kisses her lips one more time, then says, “Let’s go make it happen.”

:::

Rory is a five year old black labrador staffy cross, and Christen falls in love the second she sees him. All it takes is him wiggling his tail and running right up to Christen when she steps through the doors of the shelter—and next, they’re signing the papers to pick him up next week.

Tobin’s still a little reluctant, despite the fact that this was _her _idea.

But then Rory licks at her hand and bumps his head against Tobin’s leg, and Christen is smiling so hard—

And suddenly she feels like this is the best decision she ever made. 

:::

“What are you doing?” Tobin says.

She’s about to switch the car engine on again, but Christen has put her hand very decisively on Tobin’s thigh and is biting down on her bottom lip—her eyes on Tobin in a way that makes Tobin’s whole body go tight instantly.

Christen closes the space between them, kisses the side of Tobin’s neck. “We’re not in a rush, are we?”

Tobin’s throat goes dry. “No, but—”

Christen parts her lips, licks at Tobin’s skin. She flicks her tongue against the spot just below Tobin’s ear. Then, she bites down softly and Tobin gasps.

“Baby, I don’t think—we’re not even…” They’re not even out of the driveway. “There’s—there could be people…”

“I just don’t know if I can wait until we’re home,” Christen says, her breathing already speeding up. “I’m just so fucking into you right now.”

Tobin groans.

Okay, _fuck_.

“Besides,” Christen mumbles, fingers already on the button of Tobin’s jeans. “You always love it when it’s a little public…”

Tobin moans. “_Chris_…”

“Spread your legs a little wider for me, please?”

Fuck—this is—

Christen pops the button open, slides her hand down into Tobin’s underwear, just like that. She smirks against Tobin’s jaw. “Mm… seems like you’re enjoying this already.”

Tobin’s eyes shut so fast. Her head knocks back against the seat as Christen slides her fingertips slowly up and down between Tobin’s legs. Then, she smirks, pulls her hand back out of Tobin’s underwear and licks her fingers clean. “You taste good,” she says, sliding the tip of her tongue down the length of her index finger.

Tobin groans, pulls Christen towards her and kisses her hard, tasting herself on her girlfriend’s tongue.

Then, Christen’s hand slides back into her pants and it’s fast and a little messy—

And Tobin can’t believe Christen getting her off in a driveway like this is really doing it for her—

But she comes quick and hard, and Christen is kissing her through it, is smirking against her mouth, is whispering, “Fuck, you came so quickly, honey. Love feeling you like that.” Then, she’s pulling on Tobin’s hand and sliding it under her dress and adding, “Glad I’m wearing this dress because that made me fucking wet.”

And Tobin laughs and kisses her, and then fucks her girlfriend against the car door, because she also can’t really wait until they’re home.

:::

Christen is grinning at Tobin with taco sauce all over her chin.

It’s way later; took them a while to get home from the animal shelter (for obvious reasons), then it took them a whole while longer to get themselves out of bed for the second time today (also for obvious reasons). But now they’re out at their favorite Mexican place—and Christen is talking about college and waving her hands around and they’re both in shorts and t-shirts, and Tobin thinks, _I could just do it right now._

“… and then Kelley would never shut up about it, of course—do I have sauce on my face or something?”

Tobin grins. “You do, actually.” She brushes her fingers against Christen’s hand. “But you’re also very, very beautiful.”

Christen rolls her eyes, before grabbing a napkin and wiping the sauce from her chin. Then she says, with a smile, “You’ve been acting pretty weird all day, you know that?”

Tobin feels her stomach swoop, but she tries to play it cool. “Weird? Thinking my girlfriend is beautiful is weird?”

Christen sticks out her tongue. “No,” she says. “You’re just… I don’t know, you keep looking at me like… Like you’re distracted, or like… like, really in love with me or something.”

Tobin laughs. “Great observation, baby. Only took you a few years to figure that out.”

Christen groans. “You know what I mean. I just can’t tell where your head is at today.”

Tobin leans forward, thinks _I can just do it now_, says instead, “I _am_ in love with you.”

She’s trying to say it lightly, but something in the way the words land between them, makes it feel just a little bit heavier.

Christen seems to feel it, too, because she bites down on her lip and then flicks her gaze up at Tobin’s. “Sometimes I still can’t believe it’s real, you know?”

Tobin links their fingers together. “In what way?”

Christen’s inhale is a little deeper. “I just—I don’t know. For so long I had feelings you. Like, even all the way in the beginning, when you were still with other people, and I was… I don’t know. It’s just weird to me that even way before we got together, this is what I used to think about already. Like, living together and having a dog, and… I used to have dreams about that, did I ever tell you? All sorts of dreams—” Her cheeks go red, almost like she is suddenly embarrassed to have admitted it. “Anyway, sometimes I just can’t believe I really get to have it.”

Tobin feels her heart race in her chest. “Dreams, huh?”

Christen scoffs. “Shut up.”

“Chris.”

Christen looks up. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Christen is quiet for a second, just bites down on her lip—

And the moment is building, and Tobin can feel the little box in the pocket of her shorts pressing into her thigh, and she’s thinking _maybe_, is thinking _maybe today is the day_, and her fingers are already inching toward it—

And then Christen says, “I love you too.”

It breaks the tension, and Tobin swallows hard. Trying to be light, trying to brush over it, she says, “Where do you want to go after this? Home already?”

Christen shakes her head. The corners of her mouth curl upwards. “No, I have a different idea.”

:::

It’s a shitty soccer pitch.

One of the worst, actually; the ground is uneven, the grass patches yellow and dry, the goals too small, too unstable. Still, this is where they go sometimes, late at night, when all the kids in the neighborhood who usually play on it have gone to bed already, and the space is suddenly open, no media around, nothing but the sharp lights and the ball between them.

Christen tries to nutmeg the ball through Tobin’s legs, but Tobin can see it coming, manages to hold her off.

“Remember camp?” Christen says, breathlessly, kicking hard at Tobin’s legs. “That first time?”

Tobin grins, tries to keep their legs from tangling. “Yeah, you asked me if I could teach you.”

“And you said I wasn’t ready for that level of technicality.” Christen hooks her foot around Tobin’s ankle, pulling hard on Tobin’s arms, and laughing as they tumble to the ground, Tobin falling right on top of Christen, a little too hard.

Tobin groans as Christen’s elbow hits her between the ribs. “And then I tried to nutmeg you, and you pushed me to the ground, just like this.”

Christen laughs, tries to untangle their legs, but failing. “Poor baby.”

Tobin pins Christen down a little harder on purpose. “You’re always fouling me.”

Christen laughs, tries to push Tobin off of her. “I’m just better at soccer.”

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

“You’re not—”

“I—”

“Marry me.”

Christen stops laughing.

She’s on her back, staring up at Tobin with wide eyes, and Tobin leans back to that she’s straddling Christen’s hips, reaches into the pocket of her shorts, takes out the box with the ring, takes the deepest breath of her life—

Says, “Will you marry me?”

Christen doesn’t say anything. She’s just staring up at Tobin like she can’t believe this is really happening.

And then—

“Only you would carry that around in your shorts.”

Tobin barely has time to respond, before Christen is pushing hard against Tobin’s chest, rolling them over, accidentally making Tobin drop the box, and then she’s kissing Tobin like she’s never kissed her before. 

It’s like everything catches on fire at once.

Christen kisses her like it’s oxygen, and Tobin’s got her hands in Christen’s hair, but then she suddenly breaks away and says, “Does that mean—”

“Yes,” Christen says. “Yes, yes, Tobin, _yes_.”

They’re in sports clothes on some run-down neighborhood soccer pitch late at night, and it’s just another Saturday, just another normal day—

Turns out, today was the day after all.

:::

Later, Christen pulls a small red box from the nightstand, turns back around to face Tobin and says, “Will you marry me?”

Tobin’s eyes go wide. “What?”

Christen smirks. “At some point I had to, babe. You’ve been dancing around this for, like, a year. What if you were never going to ask me for real?”

Tobin sputters. “You’ve—you got me—how… how long have you had that?”

“A while.” Christen’s smile grows wider. “So? Will you?”

Tobin feels like her heart is shooting up to the sky. “You’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me—” Christen says. “I’ll have you know, I’m actually pretty smart. I went to Stanford.”

“I love you so much.”

“You still haven’t said—”

Tobin kisses her, says into Christen’s mouth, “Of course I’ll marry you.”

Christen smiles back. “Fine, guess I’ll marry you, too.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.” 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: 
> 
> I figured it made sense that Tobin—who had her freaking world cup medal hanging from her pocket—would be carrying the ring around like this. 
> 
> This was such a wild ride. I’m really soft for these two. Let me know what you thought in the comments! I really love reading each and every single one of them so much.
> 
> Also, apparently I had my asks on tumblr disabled, but now you should be able to come talk to me. Hit me up with questions, prompts, anything: e-lec-tric-in-di-go.


End file.
